Thursday, October 9, 2014

Over the past six months, I've watched some of my favorite blogs shut down. Including some mammoth ones like Young House Love. Those folks had a book and a line of products at Target for chrissake. And they left it all to go participate more in the very life they've been blogging about.

There's this thing that happens- somewhere in the first half of your 30s for most of us- that makes you want to talk about it less and do it more. Maybe it's the marriages, the baby making, or the joys of home ownership that leave us prisoners of our cubicles and small, windowless offices in hopes of the promotion that'll fund new appliances/windows/a new garbage disposal. If you're trying to fund a new baby... Good luck.. Most of us struggle to pay for that one no matter what.

We are fighting hard to get ahead and gritting our teeth as we fall behind.

Who the hell has the time or the stomach to write about it?

My longtime Love and I got married last weekend. Finally, I know. Or maybe not so finally. We sold a house, bought a house, both changed careers, saw loved ones grow old and ill and pass away, bid farewell to beloved family pets, painted the basement, and just this week, learned that together, we can trap and destroy a mouse infestation in the third car garage stall.

Chris and I were so busy living that there wasn't time for marriage. Which seems to be a common theme for most of us- there's never any time.

You wake up one day with an Instagram collection of 1800 pictures but only 14 of them contain tangible memories of actual life moments. I will not ask you to raise your hand if this statement rings true. It doesn't have to be said: the world is full of white noise.

We spend so much time trying to appear successful/beautiful/happy/fulfilled that we aren't doing the work to get ourselves there. Really there in the real world.

I've done a lot of living in the past 15 months. Probably more so than in any other stretch of life. I've learned that I suffer from a yeast allergy. So all those times you saw me running like a whackadoo around downtown under the influence of Coors were only partially my fault.

I've learned that Chris and I bring out both the most disgusting and most delightful aspects of one another's personalities. I wish the former weren't true, but it is and I take ownership of that.

I've learned that Corporate America will never, ever be for me. 1100ish wedding related emails almost sent me to the Crazy Place. Can we have a 72 second phone call and skip the seven email volleys?

Chris has learned that there are moments- like when our treasured 6 year old dog was diagnosed with terminal cancer- in which I cannot power through. I don't think he ever saw me weak and broken until that moment. I've learned that Chris is stronger than I thought and can hold me up when life is bringing me down.

I've learned that I can relandscape a yard, in the rain, by myself.

And last Sunday, when we woke up married and everyone asked, "so does it feel different?" I learned that marriage did not change anything other than my last name. Which tells me that Chris and I did not marry to fix something that was broken, or because it was expected, or because we were looking to fill some kind of void.

Chris and I married because we were living our lives and the path lead us right on up to that altar. It was glorious and overwhelming and magical, and I can't wait to see where it takes us next.